“I’ve heard you’re the one with all the secrets. Is it not enough to that we simply wish your company? I think that may be the best explanation at the moment.” Felicity’s gaze fastened on Bickles, who was following the conversation with interest.
Lady Carrington caught the glance and she waved her understanding. “Like that, is it? Then I look forward to your visit. I am sure you will satisfy my curiosity on the morrow. Come, Bickles, we must be off if you wish to show me again how well you handle the reins before the streets are crowded. I will see you tomorrow, ladies.”
The curricle drew into the street. Felicity and Marguerite stood for a moment and then turned towards home. They were quiet, but this time the silence was not awkward, but companionable.
As they drew close to Tristan’s grand house – she still worked to think of it as her own – Marguerite decided to speak. “Are you sure that was wise? I am not certain I will have the courage to speak, must less ask a question. Why would she wish to speak to me?”
Felicity lifted a brow. “Haven’t you ever realized that people simply like to talk? If you take a sincere interest almost anybody will answer a direct question. As for being wise, do you really worry about such things?”
“Of course, does not everyone?”
Felicity turned and took both her hands. “No, I don’t think either the truly wise or the truly happy spend much time at all on such thoughts.”
Marguerite did not know how to reply. She understood Felicity’s point, but still . . . And besides, Felicity might know her son, but she had not seen Tristan with Lady Carrington’s legs across his lap. Surely, that moved them beyond being friends.
“I see you are not convinced.” Felicity spoke with care. “You shouldn’t pucker your brow so. It will leave wrinkles.”
Marguerite immediately let her face smooth. “I am not certain that there is really nothing between them. It would not be a comfortable situation for her, surely, to be confronted by her lover’s wife.” There, she had said it. Marguerite had hoped that putting it into words would release the knot that held her stomach wrapped. It did not.
“You did not believe me about them. I truly do know my son. He would never betray a friend in such a fashion.”
“But, you said that his friend had already broken it off with Lady Carrington. I do not see how it would be a betrayal for –“
“Tristan has strong ideas of fidelity.” Felicity dropped Marguerite’s hands and turned away. “Nobody knows that as well as I. For most men it might not have required a second thought to act in such a manner, but Tristan would never even consider it. It is the one area in which he takes no risks.”
Marguerite sensed there was something Felicity did not say, but the knot in her belly slipped a little looser. Did she dare believe? “I will trust you enough to accompany you tomorrow. I can only hope that you are correct.”
Felicity turned back to Marguerite, and leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “You are the daughter I always dreamed of and with whom I was never blessed. I would not wish you to give in too quickly. A woman must hold fast to her convictions. It is one of the few strengths we have. Shall I tell you something? I would never have believed a few hours ago, much less a week ago, that I would feel this way – have expected you to follow me to Violet’s curricle.”
“You did have rather a firm grip on my arm. As for the other, I agree I would never have expected this morning that I would feel affection for you by mid-day, although I must say you remind me more of my sister than my mother.”
“I have met your mother so I will take that as a compliment, although being a mother myself I know it can be hard to judge another’s motivation. I am sure she only wants what is best for you.”
Marguerite was not so sure.
They said their farewells and Marguerite turned towards the house. She stopped halfway up the walk. Would it ever feel like home? It was so grand, so different from all she had known. A shadow shifted inside one of the upper windows. She looked again, but the movement was gone. She continued to the door and entered. The walk in